


This Truth, Unchanged

by newyorktopaloalto



Category: Fruits Basket - Takaya Natsuki (Manga)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 11:17:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17579831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newyorktopaloalto/pseuds/newyorktopaloalto
Summary: Relationships end and relationships continue.[There will always be someone on the back porch waiting for you to come home.]





	This Truth, Unchanged

**Author's Note:**

> Post-series, not epilogue compliant. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Don't own, so please don't sue. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

“I thought you quit.” 

“I don't know why you would think that.” 

Ayame snorted, inelegant and a shocking contrast to the svelte figure he cut against the snow, before he crunched his way over to where Hatori was leaning against a rail, the half-smoked cigarette dangling between his index and middle fingers. 

“Didn't Mayuko ask you to?”

“And what reason would she have to do that, Ayame?” 

Ayame not wanting to jump the railing, Hatori watched idly as he instead leaned against the other side and fixed his gaze on the trees that dotted the estate. His elbows made indents in the inch or so of accumulated snow, but Ayame didn't seem to care about the water seeping into his thick coat. 

“Because the thought of you was better than you actually turned out to be.” It was pointed, blunt, and quite obviously not aimed at Hatori—he turned to face Ayame, who clicked his fingers impatiently in reply. 

“Can I get one of those?” 

“You don't usually smoke.” 

“Well it's either this or get plastered, and I have a final fitting to deal with by myself in the morning.” 

Hatori took another drag off of his cigarette and continued to stare at his friend, blinking only intermittently, until Ayame felt it within himself to deign to look at the doctor. 

“Mine left?”

“And with her, my soul.” 

“I didn't know you loved her.” 

Ayame, scoffing and hoisting himself up onto the railing—Hatori hadn't seen the other man do something quite so pedestrian in a long while, so he felt excused in taking a moment to both admire and find suspicion in the action—only sat for a moment before landing swiftly on the deck next to where Hatori was standing. 

“Yes, well, apparently neither did she.” 

“You didn't tell her?” 

A slight wind rustled the skeletal branches of the trees, little clumps of snow falling as their perches were disrupted. Ayame took the cigarette from Hatori and held it between his own fingers, clumsy and unused to the motions as all situational smokers seemed to be—Hatori, despite knowing that he should say something to his friend, instead chose to take the more stolid of routes and keep his attention, impassable, on to where Ayame was still not answering his question. 

“Why would I?” 

“Why would you?” Hatori echoed, narrowing his eyes against the wind as it made its way over to hit the deck, leaves and other bits of detritus making their slow way towards corners and enclaves within the walled sides of the garden. 

“I felt it unnecessary.” 

About to reply, Hatori was waved away with an imperious motion and a haughty sniff—ignoring Ayame's clear warning to not say anything, Hatori was only shut up by Ayame continuing his train of feigned melancholia. 

“And it's easy for you to say, Hatori, you're not the one who just had their heart ripped out in a manner both completely unexpected and unwarranted.” 

“Mayuko and I are no longer seeing each other,” Hatori replied, not waiting for Ayame to express his pithy condolences when Hatori knew his friend most likely didn't care much about their relationship in the first place—Kana had been the only one for Ayame to have cared about, and Hatori had believed Ayame hated the woman. “And I don't believe your heart has been ripped out at all—maybe mildly inconvenienced, but hardly soul-crushing.” 

“How do you know?” Ayame asked, indignant in being told that his melodramatic emotions were nothing more than sparkling deception. 

“Because the woman broke up with you and you still can't say that you actually loved her.” 

Ayame was silent. Hatori watched as he took a small puff on the cigarette, barely avoiding a coughing fit by screwing up his face in a motion that, were Shigure here, would have been made fun of post-haste. Of course, were Shigure here, Ayame would not have been quite so truthful about his emotional problems—melodrama or no—and would have gone around half-cocked and swaggering until someone could knock some sense into the man. 

“Sorry about your break-up.” 

“Don't lie.” 

He put the cigarette out before shrugging, turning a grin onto where Hatori was leaning closer into him, arms crossed over his chest and hair blown away from his bad eye. 

“Why are you here and not with Shigure?”

“I already knew about you and Mayuko.” 

Hatori's lips curled a little, and even he didn't know whether it was in annoyance or amusement. 

“And you think that because you're now—” 

“Please, Hatori, don't be this naïve.” It was condescension wrapped in a subtle derision and Hatori pulled his lips up into a smirk to make up for the fact that Ayame's hauteur—when refined into a languid sensuality and hyper-focused on something he knew he only had to pretend to work for—did his friend very well. 

“It always comes to this, after everything else ends. You're willfully ignorant if you try and convince yourself otherwise.” 

Unable to disagree, Hatori took a fistful of Ayame's coat and brought the man closer, deliberately messing up the fabric as much as he could in the process. Ayame squawked at the manhandling, grumbling a 'now I'll have to make another' before bracketing Hatori against the railing like the both of them had been aiming for since Ayame had shown up and broken the news. 

“Did you miss me?” Ayame asked then, voice wheedling and his nose cold against Hatroi's neck. After receiving nothing more than a grunt in reply, there was a quick flick of tongue and a sharp bite. 

“You did, don't lie.” 

“I saw you last week,” Hatori replied, his hand finding Ayame's braid and tugging on the end sharply—Ayame's neck snapped up at the motion and he glared at Hatori. 

“Tell me you missed _me_ ,” he continued, tugging on Ayame's braid again before leaning in to whisper the next part against his lips, “because you could have easily lied to Mine, and you chose not to. For you? It would have been an easy lie.” 

“It would have,” Ayame agreed, sliding his body fully against Hatori's in a decidedly entwining maneuver, “but I did miss you terribly, Hatori.” 

“You too,” Hatori said after a few moments. His shoulders relaxed as he felt Ayame start to scratch idly at the nape of his neck. 

They didn't acknowledge the fact that, had Mine not made her position on their relationship clear, Ayame would still be with the woman at this moment; they didn't acknowledge the fact that at some point in the future—who knew how long, but it would come—Hatori would feel compelled to try and date once more; they never acknowledged the fact that, as gluttons, they would always be happy to break their own hearts every time they came together. 

“Let's go inside.” 

“Sounds fine with me.”

**Author's Note:**

> xoxo  
> feel free to contact me at newyorktopaloalto@mail.com


End file.
